


it was storming outside

by jilliancares



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Cannon compliant, Catharsis, DON'T READ IF YOU HAVEN'T WATCHED THE 8TH SEASON ALSO DON'T READ THE TAGS!!!!!!, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post Season 8, but then i got to the end and realized i was sad, kind of, like... i tried to fix it, okay now that those losers are gone, so there's just some sad vibes in there about you-know-what
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 06:51:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16990107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jilliancares/pseuds/jilliancares
Summary: Keith’s plan was thrown out the window as he tumbledinthe window. His foot caught on the ledge and he gasped as he practically flung himself onto the bed, landing on top of Lance and blinking at the sudden pressure of a bayard against his temple.“Don’t shoot,” he said meekly, trying to smile at Lance, who was blinking the sleep out of his eyes.--A post S8 fic where Keith realizes that Lance is in need of a friend, and - being hopelessly in love with him - goes back to earth to be with him.*update!! there's art!!!*





	it was storming outside

**Author's Note:**

> it's sad boi hours
> 
> this is the only s8 compliant fic you’ll ever get out of me, i’m just here to do damage control lmao. then it’s back to aus and pretending everyone’s (alive and well and) still living on the castle ship, thank you very much.
> 
> usually my fix-it fics are really fluffy and light-hearted but that was Really hard to do this time so it's more like... catharsis. i hope you're all doing well <3
> 
> UPDATE! haley made art because Of Course they did. my depression is cured! you can find it at the bottom of this fic and also on their insta, @haleykynz, their twitter here: https://twitter.com/fandomkynz/status/1074274623187955712 !!! (no hyperlink sorry ao3 hates me lmao)

For a long time, Keith had resented himself.

He’d resented a lot of people – Allura, mainly – but himself most of all. They were in the middle of a war, for fuck’s sake, and yet he was wasting time thinking about Lance, of all people. Lance, who he’d been in love with for— God, _years_ , now. Lance, the adorable goofball who he’d wasted so much time pretending to be annoyed with, who he’d grown closer with during their time on the Castle of Lions, who he’d spent two years pining after on that fucking space whale.

Lance, who’d been pining after Allura by the time he returned. Lance, who ended up getting what he’d always wanted.

Keith remembered pretending to be happy for him. Remembered telling him that he was perfect just the way he was and that Allura obviously liked him that way already. Lance hadn’t realized Keith was speaking from his heart, that day. He also hadn’t realized that in the weeks following the official start to his relationship with Allura, Keith had been fuming. Despairing.

Sure, he’d been fighting for the war and issuing commands and directing his team. He’d done all the things any leader was expected to do, but he did it wearing a mask. And only he had ever seen what was underneath, the cracks and crumbling pieces that fell to dust when they all went to their rooms at night, Lance often disappearing into the same one as Allura.

Of course, Keith felt horrible about it all now. God, how guilty he felt when he thought about it all… He loved Allura, obviously. It was true what Coran had said, about all of them being family. He just wished he hadn’t resented her so much, toward the end. Sometimes he wondered if she’d realized. That he was in love with her boyfriend. He’d catch her gaze, occasionally, usually after he’d just spent a good amount of time telling himself to stop staring at Lance.

Maybe that’s part of why she thanked Keith, in the end. Because she knew that even though she was leaving, even though she was breaking Lance’s heart, Keith would be right there to pick up the pieces.

Except he couldn’t be _right there_. Lance was in mourning. They all were. And they were leading different lives now, ones Keith had used to think they’d never actually live to see. A lot was happening with the Galra, all sorts of formalities and organizing and confusion in the absence of an official leader, but they looked to Keith. Wanted him to lead them, though no way in hell was that ever going to happen. He was done being a leader, thank you very much.

No, he was just keeping himself busy. Biding his time. Trying to forget. To move on.

He should’ve known it wouldn’t have worked.

They all still kept in touch, some more often than others. Hunk sent weekly emails about what’d being going on aboard the Atlas, oftentimes with a new recipe that Keith could never hope to attempt attached at the end. Shiro messaged Keith frequently, too, usually just to catch up. Pidge’s emails were full of jargon that took way too long to understand, but was appreciated nonetheless. And Lance…

Well, he didn’t email very much. Any of them. Keith knew because he’d asked around. Lance responded to emails just fine, sure, but… they always felt lacking.

It’d been longer than a year. They’d all met up recently – celebrating the day of Allura’s sacrifice on Altea – and things had felt normal, for a little while. Better. Which was when Keith realized that Lance did better with them. Back home, he had his family and his farm, but it wasn’t the same. They couldn’t relate to Lance’s experiences the way his team could. And it probably wasn’t Keith’s job, wasn’t his problem to interfere with, but…

Well, he was a fool in love. Even after all this time.

That’s why he could be found standing on the front porch of the McClain’s house at two in the morning in nothing but thin, Galran travel-wear. He could admit, he wasn’t really the best with calculating time differences and allotting travel time and stuff like that. He was pretty used to wormholing, after all. He’d really thought it’d be the middle of the afternoon when he got here.

It didn’t take a genius to realize he couldn’t knock, though. That’d be horribly rude, and he didn’t want to wake up Lance’s family. They were nice people.

Still, it was pretty fucking cold out when he wasn’t wearing a jacket or anything. He hadn’t thought to bring a bag, mostly because this decision hadn’t been a thought out one. It’d been a bit more reminiscent of his earlier days of Voltron, the ones where an impulsive thought would grip him and he’d be halfway through completing it before he even began to consider it.

He wasn’t a former paladin of Voltron for nothing, though. He’d fought for time and space and _won_ , so finding which room was Lance’s and climbing in through the window wasn’t that big of a deal. At least, that’s what he told himself as he marched around the house and found a decent looking tree. He definitely managed to scrape his chin on one of the branches as he pulled himself up, and he nearly fell out of it entirely as he scooted along one of the thin branches towards the room, but he managed to keep his balance. Which was probably a good thing, after all. His lion might’ve come barging through the house in order to make sure Keith didn’t twist his ankle otherwise.

From there, it was a simple matter of tip-toeing along the roof and peering into the windows like a creep to figure out which one was Lance’s. In the end, it was easy. His window was already open, a gentle breeze creeping into the room while Lance laid there buried under what looked to be about seven blankets.

Easy peasy. Keith would just climb in, lay down on the floor or something, and hope Lance didn’t wake up and freak the fuck out when he realized there was an intruder in his room.

Keith’s plan was thrown out the window as he tumbled _in_  the window. His foot caught on the ledge and he gasped as he practically flung himself onto the bed, landing on top of Lance and blinking at the sudden pressure of a bayard against his temple.

“Don’t shoot,” he said meekly, trying to smile at Lance, who was blinking the sleep out of his eyes.

“ _Keith_?” he finally managed, incredulous. “What are you – is this a dream?”

“No, it’s not a dream,” Keith said, finally dislodging Lance’s weapon from his face. “Why, dream about me often?”

Lance reached out and shoved him, and then he pulled him in for a hug, and then he shoved him again. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Keith shrugged. “I just… had a feeling?”

Lance was shaking his head, looking amused and happy and concerned – probably for Keith’s health. “How long are you staying?”

Keith shrugged a second time. “How long will you have me?”

Which was how Keith found himself moving in the with the McClains. Temporarily, of course, but indefinitely. They had a cozy farmhouse with more than enough bedrooms, and Mrs. McClain set up a guest room all nice for Keith, complete with fresh sheets and blankets and everything. Despite that, he spent the majority of his nights in Lance’s room.

It started out as an accident, and even then not entirely of his own volition. He’d spent the day helping out around the farm, always grateful for something laborious to pass the time, and even more thankful for the fact that Lance seemed to appreciate his company. After dinner and showers, Lance suggested they watch a movie on his laptop, and who was Keith to say no?

And when Lance fell asleep with his head pressed against Keith’s shoulder… well, he was just being a good friend, wasn’t he?

So it continued like that. Most nights they weren’t watching movies, though. They were just talking. They’d start sitting up, Lance leaning against the pillows and Keith against the wall, but they’d shift more and more the longer they talked. By the end of the conversation, they’d be tucked under the covers, heads nearly sharing a pillow and voices as low as whispers.

They talked about everything under the stars. The long, long war and the effects it still had on them. The way Lance sprung to his feet in the mornings, already reaching for his paladin armor because of the sound of his alarm. The way Keith still woke up at god-awful-o’clock to train and keep his skills sharp, because even now, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed to. That he’d be in danger if he didn’t. They talked about childhood and families, about the Galra and Keith’s efforts with them. They talked about their friends, about how it’d hit them, suddenly, that they couldn’t just walk down the hall and see them anymore.

They talked about the Castle of Lions. About the days before Atlas, before returning to a changed Earth. Days where they were alone, yes, but alone together. Lost and scared and determined and hopeful. Days where returning to Earth looked questionable and the war looked endless. Days that, despite it all… they _missed_.

Because things were simpler then. They woke up in the mornings, nothing to deal with but each other. They ate together and trained together and fought together. They bonded, because they had to, and then because they wanted to, because they weren’t just friends – they were a family.

And God, thinking about it hurt. And it made Keith feel ungrateful, because he had so _much_  now. His mother, for one thing. An entire universe safe from an unending threat, for another. But, as always, it was just the little things. All the minuscule little details that added up; all the minuscule little details that weren’t around anymore.

Sometimes, they even talked about Allura. Usually it was happy, memories of her that they shared, ones that made them laugh and smile. But other times it drifted into darker territories, ones where Lance’s lip would tremble, where his eyes would start to glisten in the moonlight shining through his window, and Keith would silently scoot closer, so he could hold him tight.

It wasn’t a night like that when everything changed.

No, it was storming outside. Lighting flashing across the sky and thunder shaking the entire house. The rain sounded like a roar on the roof and Lance was grinning as he threw open his window.

“Ugh, Lance,” Keith complained, scooting closer to the pillows. “Your bed’s getting all wet.”

“I don’t care,” Lance proclaimed, even though he definitely would care come morning when he pantleg was soaked from laying in a wet patch all night. “I’ll never get used to the rain,” he sighed happily.

“No?” Keith asked, and then he finally scooted back, because he was a disaster and he couldn’t stay away from Lance for long. He just couldn’t.

Their shoulders pressed together as they stared out the window, listening to the sound of the rain and the thunder and the forest’s leaves in the distance. It sounded _foreign_ , and only because of how normal it was. A normal that Keith hadn’t heard in far too long.

At some point, his and Lance’s hands ended up tangled together. His left with Lance’s right, both balanced on Lance’s knee, which bounced gently under their hands.

“Keith,” Lance said suddenly, his voice breaking through the steady _shhhh_  of the rain. “You like me, right?”

Keith felt himself flush. Sure, they were holding hands and sitting shoulder to shoulder and sleeping in the same bed every night, but… well, Lance didn’t have to be so _blatant_.

“Uh,” he ended up saying, his spit sticking in his throat. “Um.”

Lance snorted. “I mean, I like you too, obviously,” he saw fit to point out.

“Then, yeah. Definitely,” Keith managed after clearing his throat. He chanced a glance out of the corner of his eye, but Lance was still staring out at the rain.

“Do you think Allura would mind?” Lance said suddenly, turning to face Keith. “I mean – I loved her. I _love_  her. She was amazing, and she made me happy. But before you left for the Blades… you made me feel the same way. And she’s… she’s gone, now, and you’re back, and… God, just – am I horrible? Am I a bad person for feeling this happy when I’m with you?”

Keith squeezed Lance’s hand tighter. Shifted to face him completely. “You’re not a bad person, Lance,” he said firmly. “And she wouldn’t be upset with you. All she wanted was for you to be happy, you know? But… if you feel like you’re betraying her or, or something, by feeling that way about me – I can leave. Or start sleeping in the other room again. Or whatever you want, honestly. I’ll do it.”

Lance’s expression melted into one that was soft and sweet. He pulled Keith’s hand up to his face and pressed his lips against his knuckles. “I just want you to be here,” he said. “With me.”

And Keith felt himself smile. “I can do that,” he promised, and so the two of them laid back on the bed, Keith’s head on Lance’s chest and Lance’s fingers playing through his hair. They listened to the sound of the rain, the sound of the _Earth_ , and let that and their heartbeats and their bodies do the talking for them.

Tomorrow, Keith would take Lance out. He’d tell him to suit up and Lance would do it without question, moving on autopilot what with Keith’s leader voice making a comeback, but then he’d pause – probably with one boot on, and realize, _wait, what? Why?_  But Keith wouldn’t tell him.

He’d take him on an adventure. They’d fly Red instead of Black, because they both had a connection to her, and it’d feel like home. Keith would let Lance fly if he wanted to, but if he was willing, he’d sit in the pilot’s seat himself. There, he’d take Lance away – just a few galaxies, not too long of a trip in a magical space lion – and instead of stopping on one of the many planets in the coalition, he’d find an abandoned one. One with lush wildlife and a breathable atmosphere, but otherwise about as alien as alien could get. And it would feel just like old times – like they’d been sent out on a mission, both of them having drawn the short straws, while the rest of their team sat up all cozy in the castle.

They wouldn’t actually have a goal in mind, though. There’d be no traipsing through surprisingly humid forests or getting bitten by questionable bugs. There’d be no Galra ambush and no sudden cry for them to get back to their lions. It’d be just them, and Keith would make sure to land somewhere pretty for Lance – maybe a cliff up high, where they could watch the setting sun. Or maybe by a lake, which they’d probably end up submerged in, for some dumb reason or another.

It would feel like a normal day, or what they’d come to know as normal during their time in space. Except it wouldn’t be. Because at the end, they’d kiss.

And it wouldn’t be, because home would be Earth, not the Castle of Lions. Home would be Mrs. McClain’s cooking on the kitchen counter, not Hunk’s most recent alien creation. Home would be a house full of Lance’s rambunctious siblings that Keith was quickly coming to know and love, not a castle full of people he already knew, already loved. Not Shiro, who would ruffle Keith’s hair on his way off to bed. Not Pidge, who would be up at an ungodly hour when Keith wandered into the kitchen for a snack – also up at an ungodly hour. Not Coran, who would rattle off something nonsensical and hilarious right before they all split up for the night, saying it so matter-of-factly that it had to be some kind of ancient Altean proverb. And not Allura, who would roll her eyes fondly at whatever they’d been arguing about over dinner that night, only to end up having chosen a side by the end of it.

No, it wouldn’t be a normal day for them. But that just meant they’d have to make a new normal, didn’t it?

Keith hugged Lance just a little bit tighter, pressing his face more firmly into his chest. He decided then and there that it was about time they got everyone together again. Not forever, just… for a vacation. Something longer than a day. Because while there were definitely holes left behind in all of them from the war, they felt a little less empty when they were together.

Finally, Keith closed his eyes and let the rain lull him to sleep. He convinced himself that this was just another beginning, like getting kicked out of the Garrison or kidnapped by the Blue Lion or thrust into the Trials of Marmora. It was just another beginning, not the end.


End file.
